


In Which Grantaire is Shy about Kissing and Enjolras is Not

by HalfAnachronism



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfAnachronism/pseuds/HalfAnachronism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kiss me, R.”<br/>Grantaire was doodling in a sketchbook with charcoal, and he looked over at Enjolras. “Why?”<br/>“Because I love you. Now come here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Grantaire is Shy about Kissing and Enjolras is Not

The first time Grantaire and Enjolras kiss they’re lounging in the back of the bar, Combeferre and Joly arguing about useless trivia in the front. No one’s looking, and they’re huddled over in a darker corner, making small talk and kind-of sort-of cuddling.

They’d been dating nearly a month now, and for the ever-so-charismatic Enjolras nothing had changed. But Grantaire seemed nervous; when he and Enjolras had been flirting before he was as bold as one could be, but now he looked unsure of himself. 

Enjolras looked at Grantaire, who was playfully watching Joly and Combeferre’s debate, the corners of his lips occasionally going upward in a small, almost inaudible laugh. The two were practically leaning into each other, Enjolras sitting slightly more forward than Grantaire who was leaning against the wall, with Enjolras’s right hand nestled in Grantaire’s left, his arm under his boyfriend’s. Not only would it be so easy to kiss Grantaire right then, but it would be the perfect moment, hiding in the shadows with their friends drunkenly squabbling in the background.

Grantaire’s eyes suddenly shifted from Combeferre and Joly in the distance to Enjolras, and therefore he caught his boyfriend staring at him lovingly, a half-smile on his face.

Enjolras saw his chance and took it, turning his head to perfectly angle the way his lips slowly met Grantaire’s when he leaned in. Grantaire seemed slightly surprised but closed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly.

These few moments seemed like years until Enjolras pulled away slowly, brushing his lips over Grantaire’s one last time.

Then they go back to watching their friends bicker.

 

The first time Grantaire painted Enjolras, Enjolras could barely stop moving.

“Enjy, please. How do you expect me to paint your back when you’re jiggling all over the place?” Grantaire said. He was sitting on Enjolras’s bed, Enjolras face down in front of him.

“I’m sorry, babe, the paintbrushes tickle.”

Grantaire resumed painting silver lines onto his boyfriend’s bare skin and replied, “You know, I half-expected you to yell at me to not call you Enjy.”

“Only you can call me that, no one else.”

“I feel honored.” Grantaire said jokingly. 

Enjolras laughed quietly. The house was silent except for the breathing of the two boys and the sound of the paintbrushes making little swishy noises across Enjolras’s back. Finally, the masterpiece was done: Grantaire had painted upon Enjolras a silver sun with golden layers and lines here and there.

“Why a sun, may I ask?” Enjolras questioned when looking at himself with a mirror, Grantaire still on the bed.

“Because you are as beautiful as Apollo, and he is the sun. And I love the color silver.”

Enjolras turned back to his boyfriend. “Could I kiss you now or would that mess up the paint?”

“We’d have to be awfully careful.” Grantaire teased.

“I’m sure we can manage that.” Enjolras swaggered over towards Grantaire, and gently pushed him backwards so that he was laying on the bed, and Enjolras put himself on top of him, propping himself up on his elbows which were on either side of Grantaire’s head.

Enjolras leaned down to plant a kiss on Grantaire’s giggling face, and as their lips locked together Grantaire awkwardly tried to navigate one hand towards the back of Enjolras’s head, and the other onto Enjolras’s painted back.

The first time Grantaire painted Enjolras was also the first time Grantaire and Enjolras made love.

 

The first time that Enjolras kissed Grantaire in front of other people, they were at a rally. All their friends had gathered around and Enjolras’s arm was around Grantaire’s waist, and Combeferre was lovingly scolding Courfeyrac for not having a jacket. They were all seemingly talking at once, with a thousand conversations going, but Enjolras’s gaze was mostly on Grantaire, who was laughing and joking with Marius.

Before Grantaire could realize what was happening, Enjolras’s lips were on his, a dry, unapologetic kiss, simple yet making Grantaire feel a range of emotions that weren’t somehow related to melancholy drunkenness. The moment was quickly gone, however, and he was pulled back into the true world, realizing that his boyfriend had just kissed him in front of others, which made him feel slightly awkward.

“Oh, Enjolras and Grantaire, lovers during the revolution, how poetic!” Jehan exclaimed. 

“And you act so angry when I am in love,” Marius joked to Enjolras.

“You saw two seconds of her on the street, you’re no Romeo, Marius,” Enjolras responded with a smirk.

Combeferre interjected, “Have you not read any Shakespeare? Romeo is exactly the type of person to see someone for two seconds and fall in love. Do educate yourself, Enjolras.”

Enjolras and Grantaire laughed.

 

The first time Grantaire kissed Enjolras occurred on a bed.

“Kiss me, R.” Enjolras teased. He was lying on his side, his head propped up by his left arm. 

Grantaire was doodling in a sketchbook with charcoal, and he looked over at Enjolras. “Why?”

“Because I love you. Now come here.”

Grantaire smiled and set his sketchbook aside. He laid the way Enjolras was, but just in front of him, facing him, their faces only inches away.

He leaned in for a quick, small, light kiss.

“R, why are you so odd about kissing?”

“I’m not odd.”

“Yes you are. Not that I have a problem with it of course, I respect what you want, but you’ve just seemed a bit awkward about it. Not sure how to do it, or something. Am I pushing your boundaries too much? I really don’t mean to, and I promise I-”

“No, my love, it’s fine.” Grantaire interrupted. “It’s just that.....” He trailed off.

“What is it?”

“I just..... I’d never kissed anyone before you. I guess I’m just still a bit nervous with it all.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, as long as you’re comfortable with everything-”

“Which I am.”

“Which you are, then I could show you.”

“Oh, please do, my love.”

Enjolras smirked and leaned toward Grantaire, his lips meeting Grantaire’s quickly and passionately, their mouths opening against each other, his tongue slipping into his boyfriend’s mouth like it belonged there. Enjolras rolled on top of Grantaire slowly.

 

The first time Enjolras and seen Grantaire completely and utterly drunk out of his mind ended with them on the floor.

Neither of them knew how it had started, but Grantaire was soon very intoxicated and he couldn’t hide it. He was crying slightly, and Enjolras assumed it was his regular melancholiness taking over.

Grantaire had blood in his mouth somehow, but Enjolras kissed him anyway as they slid down the wall, Grantaire a messy heap in his loving boyfriend’s arms. Enjolras had to admit he felt almost blissful when Grantaire’s quivering lips met his; it felt euphoric yet oddly wrong how desperately his would cling to Enjolras’s as if Enjolras were providing him oxygen.

But Enjolras cleaned him up later, once he had his wits back about him, and things then went back to normal, and Grantaire was never afraid to kiss Enjolras, whether in public or in the privacy of their own home.


End file.
